‘You’re sure Mary-Kate is okay?’
‘Totally, Mum. See you in a bit.’
I lay in the bath, drinking tea and thanking God and the heavens for the gift of my two children. Coming from a big family myself, I’d hoped for more babies, but that wasn’t to be.
‘But you weren’t from a big family, Merry, you justbelongedto one,’ I whispered to myself.
However, the thought of Mary-Kate, my precious daughter in all but blood, lying a few feet away from me, stopped me from self-indulgence. Jock and I could not have loved her any more than we did. We were her mum and dad and Jack her brother, no matter whose genes she did or didn’t have.
Out of the bath and feeling calmer, I dried my hair and thought about the reason – therealreason – I’d decided to embark on my tour of the world. Now here I was in Dublin and even though it frightened me, I knew exactly where my children and I needed to go next.
‘But first...’ I said to the mirror as I applied the usual dab of pale pink lipstick, ‘I must visit my godfather.’
‘Mary-Kate, it’s so good to see you!’ I said as she reached our table in the dining room.
‘And you,’ my daughter said as we hugged. ‘You look well, Mum. I was worried when Jacko called and told me to jump straight on a plane.’
‘I’m fine, really, sweetheart. Fancy some breakfast?’
‘Weirdly, I’m craving a glass of our Kiwi wine, preferably red.’
‘Your body clock hasn’t caught up yet,’ Jack grinned. ‘It’s evening wine time in NZ. Some of this fantastic Clonakilty black pudding will have to do.’ Jack indicated his plate.
‘Ewww. It looks disgusting. What’s it made of?’ Mary-Kate asked.
‘Mum says pig’s blood mostly, but it tastes great, I promise.’
‘I’ll grab some toast, if they have anything like that here,’ she said as she began to walk to the buffet.
‘Oh, they do, try the soda bread with some jam!’ I called. ‘You’ll love it.’ Mary-Kate gave a thumbs up and I took a sip of my steaming cappuccino. ‘They never had coffee like this when I was growing up. Ireland, or at least Dublin, has changed so much, I can hardly believe it.’
‘In what way, Mum?’ Jack asked me.
‘In every way. I mean, Dublin always was ahead of the Irish curve, so it would be interesting to see what West Cork is like these days, but—’
‘No wonder your fry-ups have always been good, Mum,’ said Mary-Kate, returning with a fully loaded plate. ‘I’ve got some toast, eggs and bacon and a bit of that pudding stuff. I’m actually starving.’
I watched my daughter as she ate hungrily, just enjoying the sight of her here with me.
‘That bread is delicious, Mum,’ said Mary-Kate in between bites. ‘And the pudding thing is really good, even if it’s full of stuff I don’t want to think of.’ She put her knife and fork together and looked at me. ‘Jacko says you’ve been on a voyage of self-discovery since you’ve been here. What’s the news?’
I looked at my watch. ‘Actually, there’s somewhere I need to be.’ I stood up from the table abruptly. ‘I’ll only be gone an hour or so, and I’ll tell you everything when I’m back. Feel free to go out and explore the city while I’m gone.’
‘Okay,’ said Jack, and I saw my children exchange glances.
‘See you later,’ I said, then I walked out of the hotel and headed back to Merrion Square.
‘Mary, come in,’ said Ambrose. He led me slowly through to his sitting room and eased himself into his leather chair. ‘How are you, my dear? I’ve been so concerned for your state of mind after what I told you yesterday. Again, I beg your forgiveness.’
‘Ambrose, please, you mustn’t worry about me. Of course I was shocked. But firstly, I met Tiggy, the fifth of the six sisters who have been chasing me. She arrived at the hotel yesterday afternoon.’ I explained the conversation we’d had and how it helped ease my mind. ‘Then, after a surprisingly good night’s sleep, I woke up feeling much calmer. Truly, I understand why you hadn’t told me before. My daughter Mary-Kate arrived from New Zealand too, and having her here with me – especially as she’s adopted herself – has really helped.’
‘I’d very much like to meet her.’
‘I’m sure you will. Ambrose...’ I paused for a moment, collecting my thoughts. ‘You know I’ve always come to you for help and advice, or at least I used to. And... I need some now.’
‘Fire away, Mary, and let us hope my advice to you is better than the advice I gave to myself all those years ago, when I neglected to tell you about how James and I found you.’
‘I... well, after Jock died, I decided that it was time to finally put my past to bed. So when I went to visit Bridget on Norfolk Island at the start of my Grand Tour, I wanted to know if she’d seen... well,himin Dublin after I left. I think you know who I mean.’